dreaming

Sometimes I really get sick of myself. Or my brand. I guess I should say I get sick of my aesthetic.

I want to be sophisticated. I want to be chic.  At the very least, I want to be interesting.

Today I'm sick of Secondsister. I'm sick of my girl with the birdcage  and I'm sick of my koi fish that I've loved for so long.  His name is Cisco by the way.  Bet you didn't know he had a name.

Anyway, today I want to be someone else.  I want to sell chocolate or vintage items instead of jewelry and doodles. I want to have an office with a fancy little holder for my cards so when people meet me they know exactly who I am and what I do. I want those cards to have scrolls and flourishes.

Tomorrow I will be happy to be Secondsister. But today- today I dream.

P.S.  I also want this hat from Anthropologie.

P.P.S. Dear Brothers Record,
Please do not pee in your pants. I will not require an entire site redo. I won't be rebranding anytime soon. But a girl can dream right? However, don't get too comfy either.

the happiest place on earth

When you are eight, the happiest place on earth is a place where one might find a castle smack dab in the middle of a fantasy land with princesses strolling around, waiting to take their photo with you, and pink cotton candy sold on every corner.

And a daddy to pay for it all. Every whim.

When you are thirty-six, and sick to damn death of princesses or anything with a high voice or robotic or sticky or crowded or overpriced, the happiest place on earth is a warehouse in the middle of industrial Los Angeles, with stinky chemicals, old machines and no children.

And a Sugar Daddy to pay for it all.

Tis true.

Sugar Daddy and I went on a date. An all day date which is a luxury we decided to build into our life once a month because well, to be honest, sometimes having three kids makes us want to gouge our eyes out with hot pokers and if we can just have a day a month to regroup and focus on each other we think we can make it. And when I say "make it", I mean raise three kids to be great people without becoming nasty bitter people ourselves.

We took a letter press class at Lala Press. The classes are run by Mable, who doesn't really seem like a Mable at all in person. She is actually young and petit and gorgeous and Korean.  But I do love the name. It was my great-grandmothers.

And I love Mable. She was such an easy going, low key kind of a girl. She seemed so small operating her old printing presses.  Like a elf.

Lala Press offers several different classes. You can make anything from wedding invitations to Christmas cards. If you live in the Southern California area, I think you should book a class. Like right now.

Sugar Daddy and I made business cards.

We started by mixing our own ink and let me just tell you, Pantone books make me light headed. I must procure one pronto schmonto.

I'm not exaggerating when I say it may have been one of the funnest days of my life.

After the class we left with two hundred business cards in hand, soaked in sweat and feverish to buy our own press. We plotted out our plan over Thai food.

I guess now that we had our fun we owe the kids a day at Disney.

Aye yi yi. Bring on the cotton candy.